


How to Court a Hobbit When You're Already Married to Him

by Rowan_of_Transylvania



Series: Dwarf-napping [2]
Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Cultural Differences, M/M, Multi, courting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-20
Updated: 2013-06-30
Packaged: 2017-11-26 06:03:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/647373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rowan_of_Transylvania/pseuds/Rowan_of_Transylvania
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The dwarves decide to court their new husband as they travel. But they're going to do it their way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bofur

**Author's Note:**

> I think I'm going to do this in snapshots, rather than a cohesive story of the courting.

Bofur is the first, naturally. He approaches Bilbo that very evening carrying two bowls of stew and settles next to him.

“Here you go, Bilbo,” he hands over the stew, grinning brightly at the hobbit.

“Oh, thank you, Bofur.” Bilbo smiles back. He wonders briefly if the dwarf knows what such an offering means to the Baggins in him, but dismisses the thought. They’re already married, and Bofur wasn’t at all shy when they first met. Bilbo chuckles softly as he remembers the cheeky grin that accompanied ‘if you’ve got the balls for it’.

He’s brought out of his revery by the dwarf in question clearing his throat. When Bilbo looks over he reaches into his pocket and pulls out what seems to be a bundle of white cloth.

“I thought these might work a bit better for ye than, well...” Bofur trails off, blushing slightly as he indicates the scrap of his tunic that still pokes out of Bilbo’s pocket.

Bilbo gives him another reassuring smile and takes the handkerchiefs. Now that he looks more closely, he can see the letters _BB_ stitched artfully in the corners, and a beautiful border that he finds reminiscent of that on Kili’s clothes. He folds the new handkerchiefs in with his makeshift one (which still smells strongly of Bofur) and kisses the dwarf first on his blushing cheek then on his beaming lips. “They’re wonderful. Thank you.”

“Ah, well, at least they’re not full of holes, aye?” Bilbo’s chaste kisses seem to have flustered the dwarf far more than anything he has seen or done thus far. It strikes the hobbit as odd, but he lets it go and curls into Bofur’s warmth for the night instead.


	2. Fili and Kili

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fili and Kili make their move, and Bilbo becomes slightly less clueless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit to Cranks for the idea of Fili and Kili hunting for Bilbo to court him.

Bilbo isn’t surprised when Fili and Kili volunteer to hunt for their dinner. They are, after all, the natural choice, with their keen eyes and Kili’s bow. He _is_ surprised when they return with a wild pig that seems plenty large enough to feed the company _and_ a rabbit. He is even more surprised when they toss the pig to Bombur and approach him with the rabbit.

“Here Mister Baggins,”

“We’ve got you dinner.”

Bilbo raises his eyebrows at the furry bundle in his lap. “I wasn’t aware that dwarves traditionally ate coneys raw.” he returns wryly. Focused on the rabbit, he misses the crestfallen looks that cross Fili and Kili’s faces. He calls out to Bombur to have him cook the rabbit, but Fili snatches the rabbit before the words are entirely out of his mouth.

“No need, we’ll cook it. We just wanted to, uh, show you first!"

Bilbo’s head shoots up and he sits stunned at the false cheer in Fili’s voice. What could possibly be upsetting his young husbands (who are quickly becoming his friends as well) so much?

It hits him like Bofur’s mattock. “Wait, boys!” He leaps up and rushes to the fireside where they have skinned and spitted the rabbit. “You need some seasoning” is all he can think of to say as he joins the brothers by the fireside. Fortunately, by the time the rabbit is cooked he has had the chance to think, and offers, “Eat with me?”

The identical grins that light up Fili’s and Kili’s faces could light up the entire camp.


	3. Nori

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nori makes his bid. Unfortunately, Nori's bid is much like the rest of Nori's life.

The company passes through a human town, and they stop for lunch there, sharpening the butcher’s knives in exchange for meat for the day. As they ride out of the town and on into rocky fields and scrub, Nori urges his pony up beside Bilbo’s.

“Master Baggins,” he greets.

“There’s no need for such formality, Nori,” Bilbo returns pleasantly. “Surely you can call me Bilbo, after all, we know each other quite well.” The smirk that he sends the dwarf would make his Took ancestors proud.

Nori flushes slightly at Bilbo’s bluntness, but he soldiers on with what is clearly a prepared speech. “I wanted to apologize for the way I behaved at your house, and for betting against you the next morning.”

He looks about to go on, perhaps to elaborate on how terribly he acted (looking at Dori, Bilbo has a sneaking suspicion that Nori has had plenty of practice in that area), so Bilbo interrupts. “There’s no need, really. You shouldn’t feel guilty for betting against me when most of the rest of the company did as well. To tell you the truth, I would have bet against me up until I ran out my door. As for that dinner back at Bag End, I’ve already chalked it up to cultural differences. No harm done.” Nori looks relieved, and he allows a smirk of his own to grow as they ride.

For the rest of the day Nori and Bilbo ride side by side, chatting amiably about anything and everything, and sharing knowledge of the various plants and rocks they pass on the way. When they stop for the night Nori hitches his pony next to Bilbo’s and holds him back as the others head for Gloin’s fire.

“I got these for you,” he holds out a pair of vambraces, smaller than any of those worn by the dwarves, a perfect fit for a hobbit. They look like they might have been made for a human child, but they are sturdy leather, etched with beautiful patterns in metal. They are a work of art that would be hard to forget, and in fact, Bilbo is sure he’s seen them before.

“Nori, did you steal these from the butcher?” He hisses, shocked.

Nori looks uncomfortable again. “Well, he was cheating us anyway. I heard him talking to his assistant about how much the blacksmith would have charged to sharpen those knives and how little he was giving us for the same job done better.”

“That doesn’t mean you can just–” Bilbo hasn’t been this flustered since that first night he met the dwarves. “He must have paid a fortune for these!”

“Bless you, Mister Baggins,” Nori is smiling fondly now, “That butcher was plenty well off. I didn’t take anything he couldn’t easily replace. Keep them, and may they serve you well on this quest of ours.” With that he clasps Bilbo’s shoulder and goes to join his brothers at the fire.

Bilbo sinks to the ground, head in his hands. “Forget Smaug, these dwarves will be the death of me first!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm looking for a beta for this series, and if I find one who's up for it, I might write the two missing days of honeymoon. If anyone's interested shoot me a message.  
> I also have a Tumblr at whenrowanwrites.tumblr.com


	4. Bifur

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is quite the family resemblance between Bifur and Bofur. Language barriers and the stubbornness of dwarves and hobbits also make an appearance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Betaed by the wonderful Algie

Bilbo looks up and grins as Bofur throws himself on the ground next to him. The cheerful dwarf has become his near-constant companion on their journey, his easygoing cheer a perfect counterpart to both the Baggins and the Took in Bilbo. However, this time Bofur looks up at someone on Bilbo’s other side, gesturing encouragingly for him to sit down. Bilbo looks over to see Bifur. He is fiddling with a bowl of porridge and a spoon, and looks like he is either extremely nervous or about to throw the food clear across the camp.

 

“Good morning, Bifur,” the hobbit greets. He made the mistake, early on in their quest, of assuming that since Bifur spoke no Westron, he could not understand it either. To this day Bilbo winces when he remembers the whack Bifur gave him for asking Bombur about the axe in Bifur’s head as though Bifur himself could not hear.

 

Bifur nods at him in return, and growling something in Khuzdul he thrusts the bowl and spoon at Bilbo.

 

“It’s a gift for you,” Bofur translates, “He carved them himself.”

 

Bilbo looks closer at the spoon in his hand. It has his name carved in beautiful script down the handle, the letters stained with some sort of polish. The bowl, too, is marked as his, and it has pictures around the outside that he can’t see properly. He eats the porridge hurriedly and inspects the bowl. He sees hills and paths and little round doors–

 

“It’s the Shire!” Bilbo exclaims, looking delightedly up at Bifur, who grins and nods. Bilbo turns the bowl to look at the other side. “Is that Leroy?” Bifur can’t have seen young Adelard Maggot’s prize hog for more than a minute, and yet here he is on Bilbo’s bowl, as clear as if the pig had modeled for the carving. Bifur nods again, seeing Bilbo’s finger on the pig’s image, and says a few more words in Khuzdul, this time accompanied by gestures.

 

“He wanted you to have something to remind you of your home while you help us get ours back.” Bofur supplies when Bilbo looks to him. This reminds Bilbo of something he’s been meaning to ask.

 

“Say, fellows, I know the dwarf language is secret, but do you suppose I could learn your sign language?”

 

“Iglishmek? I don’t see why not.” Bofur seems thoughtful, “Aye, you’re a friend and ally now, no reason to keep you entirely shut out. We’ll start on the ride today.”

 

And if Bilbo notices Bifur’s eyes tearing up slightly as he shows the hobbit the most common signs, he doesn’t mention it. After all, it’s only right that he be able to talk to his husband.


	5. Ori

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ori hasn't courted anyone before. Is it that obvious?

Bilbo looks suspiciously over to where Nori and Ori are holding a whispered conversation at the edge of camp. While he isn’t quite so mother-hennish over the youngest dwarf as Dori is, he does recognize that Nori is _not_ the best role model for him. The vambraces around his wrists are proof of that.

 

Thinking to catch a bit of their conversation, to perhaps ensure that Nori isn’t instructing Ori in the fine points of throat slitting or something equally horrible, Bilbo edges closer to where the brothers are engrossed.

 

“...been working on it for weeks , ” he catches Nori saying . “There can’t be anything more to do on it.”

 

“There isn’t,” Ori says.

  

“Then what are you waiting for? It has to be you next, you know.”

 

“I know. I just...” Ori trails off, looking confused and torn and nervous all at once. Finally he bursts out, “What if he doesn’t like it?”

 

“Oh, Ori, haven’t you heard his sniffling and grumbling?” Nori seems amused, though Bilbo thinks he really could have done without Nori portraying him as some whining tween (there is no doubt now as to just who they are discussing). “He’ll love it! Besides, even if he doesn’t, he’s far too nice to say so.”

 

“Thanks,” Ori mutters, and Bilbo privately thinks that there is a certain poetry to the fact that Ori only ever uses the sarcasm that Nori must have taught him when speaking to Nori himself.

 

“Come on, lad. Dwalin and Thorin won’t wait forever.”

 

Ori takes a deep breath and, after a small shove from his brother, walks tentatively over to Bilbo. He rocks back and forth for a few seconds, then practically throws the bundle he’s holding at Bilbo. “Imadeyouthis!” he says in a rush, and before Bilbo can even open his mouth, the youngest dwarf runs off to rejoin his brothers.

 

Bilbo opens the bundle. It’s a hood. What’s more, it’s a handmade, thick, hobbit-sized hood. The inside is knit with Ori’s thickest and warmest wool yarn, and it is covered on the outside by a layer of oilskin to keep the rain off. Bilbo recalls his griping during the rain shower and blushes. He hadn’t thought any of the dwarves could hear him that day, but apparently Ori and Nori, at the very least, had.

 

He attaches the hood to his coat with the little clasps Ori included and rises to speak with him, thinking that perhaps Ori will be a little more confident with his brothers to back him up. He isn’t. When Bilbo stands before the trio and thanks Ori for the hood, it takes both Nori and Dori elbowing him before the young dwarf manages to stammer out, “Oh, well... I’m not really... a craftsman or a warrior or anything... And I don’t have the materials to make you a proper scribing gift, so...” he trails off once again, blushing furiously.

 

“It’s perfect, Ori , ” Bilbo says . “And really exactly what I needed for this journey.” And because he cannot resist, Bilbo leans down and places a kiss on Ori’s tomato-red cheek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, in this universe Thorin always has to wait until last to make any sort of claim on Bilbo, because once the king lays claim to something no one else can. Dwalin always waits until second to last, partly out of solidarity with Thorin and partly because, as Thorin's personal guard since childhood (whoops, headcanon insert), he always goes before Thorin to test the waters and make sure it's safe. It's like how royalty always used to have servants taste their food to make sure it wasn't poisoned, except it's Dwalin and he tests _everything_.


	6. Dwalin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dwalin manages to begin his courtship without offending the Baggins, and Balin saves Bilbo from his terrible fate of ignorance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn it's been a long time. Really sorry about that, guys, but I now have more time, so writing should be coming a bit more frequently.  
> As before, betaed by the amazing Algie.

Bilbo meant to ask Nori what he meant by Thorin and Dwalin not waiting, but it slips his mind when Thorin and Gandalf get into an argument over something, Bilbo can’t quite make out what, even as he strains to hear. He has no time to remember, either, as Gandalf storms away and Bofur calls him over to help with supper.

 

Bilbo is quite certain that the events that follow are the most adventure that any hobbit has had since before the Shire was founded. First being captured and nearly eaten by trolls (he’s quite proud of how he saves them; maybe now his husbands will see that there is more to surviving than how well you swing a hammer), then searching for the trolls’ cave (he still isn’t entirely sure why), and finally being chased by orcs on wargs (Bilbo has a horrible feeling that they’re being targeted). By the time they reach Rivendell he has barely enough awareness to be awed at the place he has dreamed of seeing since he was old enough to walk, let alone to think about husbands and courtships.

 

In all his worry over his husbands when they have finally accepted Lord Elrond’s hospitality (Dwalin and Thorin, the stubborn bastards, only stay long enough for him to assure himself that they aren’t dying before going off separately to who knows where), Bilbo doesn’t remember his confusion until their second evening. Dwalin calls him over to where he and Balin are smoking.

 

“I know it’s not much,” he says, rising, “But proper gifts are just burdens in the wild anyway. Where’s yer little knife?”

 

Bilbo hands over the blade in its sheath, mystified as Dwalin takes it and sets it aside. He opens his mouth to ask when Dwalin turns back with some sort of complex leather belt in his hands. “Arms up,” he orders, and Bilbo automatically obeys. Dwalin wraps one of the leather straps around Bilbo’s waist, buckling it in front with a suspiciously fine-looking metal buckle. Nudging Bilbo’s arms back down, he brings the other strap up and over Bilbo’s right shoulder. Bilbo examines the belt as much as he can with Dwalin still adjusting it, and sees a stiff loop by his left hip. This must be to hold his sword, with the shoulder strap to stabilize it. Sure enough, when Dwalin is done he grabs the sword and slides it through to rest comfortably against Bilbo’s hip.

 

“That should hold it a bit better for you,” he says, stepping back. “Sometime when we’ve got the freedom I’ll teach you something of how to use it.”

 

Bilbo smiles his thanks and is about to leave when he remembers Nori’s confusing remarks to Ori. He turns back. “Why did you and Thorin have to wait for Ori to give me his courting gift?”

 

Dwalin looks speechless, but his brother is fortunately there to save him. “It’s an old tradition, laddie, meant to protect the king and his courted. In the early days when a dwarf king announced his courtship of a young lad or lass, the poor dwarf would immediately be surrounded by new suitors, all clamoring to make their overtures to the king’s beloved. Some wanted favor with the royal family, others wanted the acclaim of having won the dwarf who held the heart of the king, and some wished to use the connection to do harm to the king and his dearest. Now no dwarf can bid his courtship to the king’s courted, unless he announced his intentions before the king did his.”

 

Bilbo’s consternation must be showing on his face, because Balin hurries to reassure him, “It’s mostly a formality, laddie. The king usually tells his intended in private first, so they can officially start any courtships they may have brewing. In this case, you made your choice quite clear, so Thorin merely has to wait to initiate his courting until all of your other husbands have done so.”

 

Bilbo thinks this over. “And Dwalin? Why must you wait?”

 

“I’m Thorin’s guard and shield brother; I don’t leave him.” Dwalin looks more earnest and grimly determined than Bilbo has ever seen him. “When he charges, I charge with him; when he waits, I wait at his side.”

**Author's Note:**

> I figure dwarves, being the emotionally constipated, treasure-obsessed craftsmen that they are, would court with no communication and lots of handmade gifts. I agonized over what to have Bofur give Bilbo, but then I decided that since he's a toymaker it's perfectly acceptable for him to have skills in working with cloth.
> 
> Also, for anyone who is interested, someone else filled the original prompt on the kink meme here:  
> http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/3138.html?thread=5295682#t5295682


End file.
